Yes, that is correct. I bring you this blog post from inside a Virgin… America plane, that is. I thought it would be a lot tighter, but it’s actually quite spacious. That’s what I get for being a Southwest flyer, lower standards when it comes to comfort. You might be wondering, “why all of a sudden in-appro-pro? This language isn’t consistent with your previous blog posts, sir duke!” Straight to the point – it’s because they did it to me first, man. They did it to me first.
Now we all know before going through airport security, we gotta put-out a little bit and strip. Take those shoes off, unbuckle that belt, remove the jacket, and let them check your goodies. The next step however, was a bit foreign to me. This was my first time at the Dulles airport and the TSA had also recently implemented new security measures that allowed for them to be more… what’s the word… SENSUAL? I walked in front of the scanner and was told to lift up my arms and throw up the delta sign. I was like, nah… I’ll throw up the Roc symbol instead. Quite fitting, since the Roc Boyz had been my anthem for the past couple of months. But NOPE! Old girl tells me, “Excuse me sir, I need you to put your hands up like THIS!" (Forms a triangle with her thumbs and index fingers). I was laughing inside. Wow lady. Fine. Take a chill pill.
Just when I thought the fun was over, old dude was waiting for me at the end of the assembly line (with a smile he couldn’t hold in). “Good evening sir. I’ll be patting you down, starting from your knee and up your leg, until I reach your torso.” Alright. That’s cool. No biggie. I’ve been patted down before. But NAH-UH homie! This wasn’t your Friday-night-casual-pat-down-before-entering-the-club kind of pat down. This was RAW. Old dude literally made a ring around my knee and tightly worked his way up, as if his hands were a VAGINA giving birth to the rest of my leg.
Upper thigh. Ok, we’re good right? NOPE! I’ve played enough violent video games to know where the torso begins. So I thought to myself, “Oh god.” Old dude had his hands on me till he hit the crotch of my jeans, and then he finished it off with a little upward tug. I couldn’t help but shake my head and smile out loud (is that possible?). Thank goodness I still sag my jeans a little bit. Imagine if Peter Pan had been flexing his muscles? Just sayin’. This ain’t high school when it would've just pointed straight out because of my baggy jeans. You could've lost an eye, man. This is the era of slim jeans SON! It would’ve been snuggled down next to my thigh... Is the awkwardness over? NOPE, it doesn’t stop here.
“Alright sir. Now if you could just turn around, we’d like to check out your backside.” Could he have chosen better words? So of course, I turn around and he does the same exact thing… but to the same leg! He makes a ring around my knee and tightly works his way up my thigh. That upward tug was VERY uncomfortable. Could he have gotten any closer to my mistletoe? Sigh. And now my left leg feels lonely, but it’s cool. Security checkpoint passed. I turn around to see old dude trying to hold in his laugh like it was a hiccup. I give him a smirk, shook my head, and asked him, “Long day?”… He tilts his head, sighs, and replies, “yeah man.”
Thank you TSA Officer. That is the most action I’ve gotten in months. I feel like we know each other THIS much better. To top things off, the inside of the plane looks like they’re scanning for some type of residue. Makes you wonder how many people became members of the Mile High Club up in this piece. Just sayin’.
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